


Bird Scissors

by ltskiki



Series: Bird Scissors [1]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, otgw - Freeform, possible PTSD, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltskiki/pseuds/ltskiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wirt needs to lay off the poetry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bird Scissors

Ninth grade fluttered by like a leaf from a log. Wait, like water from a stream. Yeah.  
It's June ninth now, the last day of school. Most kids were exuberant, laughing masses as they were let out of their brick cage for 3 months of adventure. But Wirt wasn't feeling it.  
It'd been six months since he and Greg had gone over the Wall, and he had started to regret ever leaving. Greg was the only thing that made him stay, really. He didn't think it was safe enough for him, he was only eight. Wirt shuffled onto the parking lot, the straps of his backpack making indentations in his slender back. Sara had invited him to hang out with some other kids on the football field, but they never got together before dark.  
Sighing, he retrieved his house key from the front pocket of his jeans as he walked up the stoop.As soon as Wirt opened the door, a blast of string foam hit him in the face.  
"Wirt! I thought you got lost or something. I RAN home from school. Miss Berkeley said I'm really fast! Like an airplane! " Wirt wiped the pink residue off his face and gave his little brother a small smile.  
"Hi, Greg. Is mom home yet?"  
"Nope!" He replied, zooming around the room, then planting his face in the couch. "My dad's out getting groceries. It's mom's birthday next week, maybe he got us a cake! "  
Wirt chuckled and took off his blue cape. A few kids made fun of him for it at first, but he'd grown accustomed to wearing it every day. It stilled smelled like the Unknown.  
"I'm going go study in my room, okay?"  
Greg put his hands on his hips "You're just gonna listen to old people music and read poetry to yourself REALLY LOUD." He demonstrated by yelling the first line of the Gettysburg Address into his ear. Wirt ignored him and went into his room, shutting the door firmly.  
He felt the shakiness coming back. Every time he was alone, he started thinking of Beatrice and Jason Funderberker (the frog). They'd decided to dump him over the Wall a few weeks after returning.  
Wirt couldn't feel his hands. He sat on his bed, trying to keep his legs from moving up and down. He was restless. Bored with this mundane reality. He could barely remember Beatrice's voice anymore. Running his hands through his hair, Wirt opened his dresser drawer and pulled out his scissors.  
They were nothing like Beatrice's. They were a dull silver, lacking any ornate design. He got them from the hair and beauty store down the street; they were originally for cutting hair. Shrugging off his pants, Wirt positioned one blade above his thigh, gazing at the five red lines from a few nights before. They were just scratches, but they calmed him down. They made him feel strong, like they were battle wounds from a vicious war. He winced as the first cut appeared on his skin. It bubbled and he wiped it away with a tissue.  
A few cuts later and he was satisfied. He got up to put the weapon away, not realizing how close he was to the bedpost. Yelling out, he grabbed his foot and ended up landing on his butt.  
"Safety patrol!" He heard Greg yell as he frantically grabbed his jeans off the bed. The door was pushed open and his brother appeared, wearing a baseball cap with a chicken on it. The elder froze up.  
"Wirt! You're bleeding! " He cried out.  
"It's okay; it's okay, Greg, I can handle it myself." Wirt waved him off from his position on the floor.  
"No way! A doctor's work is never done!" Greg exclaimed, running over to Wirt.  
"Whoa, what happened?"  
Wirt grimaced "Nothing, Greg, it's fine."  
Greg noticed the scissors next to him, with some droplets of blood on the side.  
"Ahhhhh! Are they scissors haunted? Did they attack you?!"  
Wirt brought his hand to his face and groaned. "Shut up, Greg. I did it."  
He faltered, then his eyes grew wide. Wirt waited as his little brother ran out of the room, and returned with a tin of dinosaur bandaids.  
"I'll fix it!" Greg declared, struggling to take the plastic peel off the back of a T-rex. Wirt knew they would hurt to take off, they were uneven and some weren't covering anything, but he didn't care.  
Once Doctor Greg had put on a suitable amount of bandaids (17) he ran and returned the box to the kitchen.  
"Thanks, Greg.." He called after him. He didn't reply, but he heard a loud crash and some kind of animal screeching. He struggled to pull on his pants and ran to the scene.  
\-------●-------●--------  
That night, Wirt was lying in bed when he heard his door creak open. Moments later, he felt a warm, little body slide under the covers.  
"Wirt?" Greg whispered, wiggling his toes.  
"Yeah?"  
"Why did you hurt yourself?"  
"..I don't really think I know, Greg."  
"That's dumb."  
Wirt laughed, rolling over.  
"Do you ever miss the woods?"  
"Yeah. I wanna see Beatrice! ..And Jason Funderberker!"  
"Do you wanna go on a little summer vacation tomorrow, then?"  


**Author's Note:**

> I tried so hard not to make this cliché. I spent a couple hours on a school night when I was supposed to be sleeping, so there might be grammatical edits later on.


End file.
